


affairs of the heart

by jeojang (synapnea)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, half the tagged dudes are just cameos sorry, i'll probably take them out as i go along, main ship is nielwink just to be clear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synapnea/pseuds/jeojang
Summary: Daniel couldn't sleep.Neither could Jihoon.He could sense a shift in Jihoon, the bitterness leaving his body and being replaced with a different weight, one of longing for something—someone—he couldn’t have.





	affairs of the heart

_— 2:18 am_

Daniel couldn’t sleep. 

He wasn’t sure if it was Woojin’s snoring, or Samuel turning over in the bunk across the room every five minutes, or Seongwoo humming his portions of “Get Ugly” over and over again. 

Maybe it was all of them.

Or maybe it was just in his head. 

Daniel shifted his right arm, covered in a splint, from his side onto his stomach. He’d spun on his hand wrong during one of his breakdancing bits in the “Get Ugly” stage and had had to be treated at a nearby clinic afterwards. It was past 2 in the morning before he’d returned to the dorm, and he’d been so tired that he hadn’t bothered to take off his performance clothes before shuffling up the bunk stairs and flopping into bed.

He’d already done a shitty job as leader, and then he had to injure himself during the performance, too. _My ranking sucked, I fucked up my hand, and now I can’t sleep. Everything is great._

“Niel-ah.”

Daniel didn’t realize Seongwoo’s humming had stopped.

“Hyung?”

“Oh, you are still awake then.”

Daniel scoffed. “How am I supposed to get any sleep with you singing this late at night?”

“Well, who would’ve thought Woojin over there would snore like a dying bear?”

Seongwoo sounded irritated, but Daniel guessed that he was smiling anyway. Seongwoo had become rather affectionate towards the younger boys in their team in the two weeks that they’d roomed together. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been pulled in by that snaggletooth, hyung. I’ve seen you smiling to yourself when he’s dancing.”

Daniel could swear he _heard_ Seongwoo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah. Not when he’s asleep though.”

Both of them chuckled. Daniel knew Seongwoo was smiling this time.

“Daniel, is your hand alright?” Seongwoo suddenly sounded grave. Seongwoo never called Daniel by his full first name unless it was serious. “I’m really sorry the staff ushered us to go so soon, we should’ve stayed—”

“It’s okay, Jisung-hyung helped me out. It’s mostly sore, but they said it’ll be fine in a few weeks with the splint.” Truth be told, it was more painful than Daniel wanted to admit, but he didn’t want anyone worrying about him more than Jisung already did. Jisung _and_ his mother were enough, thank you very much.

“The kids were worrying about you, you know.”

Daniel felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin, both from feeling touched and from Seongwoo referring to their teammates as “the kids.” As the second oldest, Daniel had come to grow fond of his younger teammates as well. “That’s sweet. Thanks for letting me know.”

A silence befell the room, only broken by Woojin’s snoring and the rustle of Samuel’s bedsheets.

“Hey, you think Samuel’s bunk would collapse if he turns around in his sleep enough?”

“Honestly, hyung, I’m just surprised Jihoon hasn’t punched him yet. He’d kill him before that happened.” Daniel raised his head to check Samuel’s bunk, and as if on cue, Samuel shifted from facing Seongwoo to facing the wall, blanket a knotted mess on his legs.

Then, from the bunk below Seongwoo’s came a muffled voice, stirring both Seongwoo and Daniel from their conversation. “I will punch both of you if you don’t shut up already.”

Propping his non-splinted arm behind his head, Daniel peered down over the railing at Hyungseob’s curled figure, arm mashing his pillow into his ear. Across his feet, Seongwoo did the same. “Sorry, Seob.”

After a few seconds, Seongwoo’s voice that was barely above a whisper cut through the silence. Even Woojin’s snoring had subsided. “Get some sleep, Kang.” 

Daniel smiled. “Good night, hyung.”

 

* * *

 

_— 2:42 am_

Woojin’s snoring had gotten loud enough to reverberate through the room again. While Daniel had become accustomed to running on only several hours of sleep every night for how many years, the universe seemed to conspire against him having even a wink of rest tonight. He’d never been the type to rest his head on the pillow and immediately fall into slumber (or snoring, in Woojin’s case), but tonight was something else.

“Seongwoo-hyung?”

Silence.

_Well, at least one of us is actually asleep._

Propping himself up on his arm again, and taking care not to hit his head on the ceiling, Daniel sat up in his bed and tried to find the faint blink of Jihoon’s watch down below. While Jihoon’s choice of watches (and clothes) were admittedly not particularly fashionable, Daniel had found Jihoon’s oversized, electronic watch-wearing habits to be useful in the middle of the night when he’d left his phone in the closet and couldn’t figure out what time it was, because Mnet apparently thought it was too much to leave a clock inside each room. And after his SNS controversy, he’d taken to leaving his phone in the closet more often than not.

Daniel squinted into the darkness, searching for the flashing neon green of Jihoon’s watch. It took him a few moments to realize Jihoon’s bed was empty.

_That’s weird, he’s usually one of the first ones asleep. Did he leave after Seongwoo-hyung and I talked? Wait, was he even here when I got to the dorm? Damn, I must really be out of it._

Taking care not to make much noise, Daniel inched his way down from his bunk to the floor. He changed out of his performance clothes slowly, wincing every time he had to lift his right arm to get in or out of a shirt. After successfully switching into sweatpants and a T-shirt without injuring himself further, Daniel tiptoed out of the room, blinking in the bright light of the hallway.

Though the trainees had strict training and class schedules, they were free to roam the dorms during all other hours as long as they stayed inside the building. As Daniel walked past the private practice rooms, he saw a trainee still holed up inside them, singing and dancing and writing their dreams into the night. Though they had just finished an evaluation stage, their training never saw an end. Daniel wondered if he, too, would ever be able to cross the finish line—the one marked _debut_.

Walking down the stairs into the main lobby, Daniel looked up at the giant clock facing the entrance. _2:52 am. What has it been since I got out of the clinic, an hour? Two hours?_

Daniel stood still, thoughts filling his head as his eyes followed the second hand around the clock. One new worry for every _tick, tock_. He’d finally started gaining the momentum to reach the upper half of the Top 11, only to have his SNS controversy happen, then rank 5th out of 6 trainees after Get Ugly, and now he also had a thumb injury to tend to. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_. Still, he knew he should be thankful to still be here at all. Out of the five trainees MMO had sent to the show, only he, Jisung, and Jinwoo were left, and Jinwoo wasn’t likely to survive the next cut.

Of course, Daniel wanted to debut. That was what the whole show was for, wasn’t it? The desperation in every trainee present was palpable. You could feel it in the heat of practice, hear it in the straining of voices, see it in the beads of sweat rolling off the faces of trainees rehearsing at 3 in the morning, if only for one more shot to be on stage.

Suddenly feeling weak in the knees, Daniel spun around, looking for the closest available surface to sit on. Only then did he see Jihoon in his practice tank and shorts, hair limp and the hollows of his eyes a shade darker than usual, sprawled on a nearby couch with his eyebrow cocked at Daniel.

“Ah, Jihoonie.”

“How long are you planning on standing there?”

Daniel blinked. Jihoon, who was normally so polite and reserved in front of a camera, had a sarcastic streak that seldom revealed itself until after hours, when he had been practicing far too long and awake for far longer. Even having worked with Jihoon into the late night for the last two weeks, Daniel still hadn’t gotten used to it. 

He ambled over to the couch and sat on the floor by Jihoon’s feet, placing his arms on his knees, momentarily forgetting about his inner monologue. “How long have you been here?”

“Since we got back. I saw you come in with Jisung-hyung and the staff.”

Daniel fiddled with his splint. He must have _really_ been tired to not have noticed Jihoon in plain sight when he had entered the building earlier, especially considering the lobby had been deserted, with most everyone else exhausted and in bed. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

“I’d rather stay up and think than have my thoughts turn into nightmares.”

Daniel froze in the middle of fidgeting with his bandages. In the past few weeks Daniel had learned that Jihoon was certainly not as rehearsed, not as careful and deliberate with himself than he appeared on screen, but that sounded a little _too_ unguarded, even for him. “Come again?”

Jihoon laughed, but it rang hollow. “Sorry, just testing you. It’s late.”

Daniel turned to look at Jihoon. He had his arm up over his eyes, one leg outstretched, the other resting up the seat of the couch. Daniel wondered what the public would think, if there had been staff following them around with cameras this late at night, seeing Jihoon look almost… vulnerable.

Of the things he had learned about Jihoon, Daniel realized that he didn’t actually _know_ him. Though Jihoon was properly bright on screen, and clearly motivated to do well on the program, he was also quiet, not particularly keen on speaking unless spoken to, and rarely talking about himself unless asked. Every time the two had spoken, Jihoon had simply absorbed Daniel’s words, nodded softly with a “Yes, hyung,” and adjusted his choreography, or wordlessly handed him a water bottle, or whatever it was Daniel had asked of the moment. He had oftentimes felt like he had been talking to Jihoon through a fog of glass, never quite reaching him all the way. And Jihoon had never made the effort to extend his own hand back.

Daniel wondered if the fog was clearing now.

The air was still, with nothing more than the _tick_ , _tock_ above their heads to punctuate their dialogue.

“Hyung.”

Daniel stirred. “Yeah.”

“How did you feel when not all of your labelmates made the first cut?”

“I…” Daniel leaned his head back, searching for the words, remembering his own reflections just minutes earlier. “Honestly, I felt like shit. I was happy for myself for making it, but I couldn’t even fully experience that, because not of all of us did. For every second I felt like celebrating, I needed a second to mourn, too.” Daniel remembered right after the first ranking announcement had finished, when Jisung had been inconsolable, and he hadn’t even been the one to be eliminated. Jaehan and Taewoong, fake smiles plastered on their faces, had simply said, “We’ll see you back at the company, hyung!” But Jisung wasn’t having it and had had to be dragged out of the set, eventually falling asleep on Jinwoo’s shoulder on a sofa in the hallway, surrounded by boxes of tissues. 

“Do you miss them?”

Daniel cocked his head. “On the show, you mean?”

A beat. “Sure.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. We’d been training together for a while even before the show, so it sucks that not everyone survived the first cut. But they’re still supporting us and I’ll still see them at the company, so no matter what happens, I just have to keep focusing on myself and hope for the best for the three of us who are still here.” Daniel didn’t realize how much he believed in his own words until he had vocalized them just now, and he felt momentarily at peace with his circumstances. He truly was thankful to still have a place on the show, and he knew Jisung and Jinwoo felt the same.

“That sounds nice.” Jihoon’s words cut through the air like a knife, thick and suffocating.

Daniel’s brow furrowed, noting the stark contrast between what Jihoon said, and the listless tone of his voice as he said it. He suddenly realized just how much Jihoon was actually talking to him, and that he seemed to _want_ to keep talking, wondering if Jihoon was now stretching his hand through the fog of his own accord.

Daniel adjusted his position on the floor so he was fully facing Jihoon, who was still laying back on the couch, staring at the grand chandelier overhead, looking without seeing. 

“Your labelmates… do _you_ miss them?”

It took more than several seconds before Jihoon answered. “That’s the thing. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Uh, that’s… not what I asked you?” _What is he talking about, he ‘shouldn’t be here’?_

“I shouldn’t be missing anyone in the first place because I shouldn’t _be_ here.” Jihoon’s voice seemed like it was coming from far away, as though through a wall from the next room, caught in midair.

“I really don’t know what you mean by that. You auditioned, didn’t you?” 

Jihoon snorted. “I only auditioned because my labelmate bribed me with _tteokbokki_.”

Well, _that_ wasn’t an answer Daniel was expecting, either. “You’re on this show because of _rice cakes_?”

Jihoon’s laugh came out strangled, incomplete. “Stupid, isn’t it? And now he’s _gone_ , and I’m _still here_. Isn’t that fucking ironic?”

The venom dripped out of Jihoon’s words like honey, thick and viscous. Daniel wasn’t even sure if the venom was directed towards anyone in particular but Jihoon himself.

“Who the fuck thought half the country would fall in love with a half-second wink?” Jihoon muttered. “Maybe I’d be gone by now too if they hadn’t edited that in.”

Daniel watched as Jihoon rose slowly, shoulders hunched, one arm still holding onto the seat of the couch for support. Jihoon’s eyes were vacant, the shadows underneath them seemingly stretching to cover half his face. 

“He left.” 

“Sorry?”

“My labelmate. The one who bribed me. He left the company.”

“Oh.” _Shit, no wonder he was asking about mine earlier._

Daniel racked his brain, trying to find words of comfort other than just a reactionary “ _Oh_ ,” but came up empty.

“He’s transferring out of our school, too.” Jihoon’s voice had gotten noticeably softer, quieter. “He said he doesn’t want to do this anymore.”

A moment passed, and then Jihoon swung his legs off the couch and planted them on the floor, sinking his torso into the seat, arms slack, head rolling back so his eyes were on the ceiling once again. Daniel made to move to the couch as well, collapsing his body into the cushion, leaving just enough space between them. 

Jihoon moved his arms into his lap, and Daniel finally noticed that neon green he had been searching for earlier on Jihoon’s wrist. _3:15 am_. He could sense a shift in Jihoon, the bitterness leaving his body and being replaced with a different weight, one of longing for something—someone—he couldn’t have.

“We—me, him, Jongyeon-hyung—went on this show to train, mostly. I really had no idea my wink would blow up like that.” Jihoon spoke softly, mapping every word before it escaped his lips. “Our company was already talking to us about a possible debut even before we auditioned, even before we knew the show would actually happen. And we only auditioned in the first place because Hyeop-hyung was adamant that we at least get our names out there before we went on stage for real.”

“So the three of you had a debut in the works, is what you’re saying.” MMO had talked previously to Daniel and his labelmates about going through the pre-debut process, and Jihoon’s experience rather mirrored his own. On his end, it had been Jisung doing the convincing of auditioning.

“Essentially. We had artists’ contracts already being negotiated by the time the show was asking around for trainees, but we auditioned anyway. Hyeop-hyung was the one out of the three of us who really wanted it. Like I said, I wouldn’t even be on this show if he hadn’t coaxed me with a free meal.” 

Daniel couldn’t help but laugh, despite the gravity in Jihoon’s voice. “I can’t believe you would never have become Wink Boy if not for rice cakes.” 

Jihoon shrugged, staring idly at an arbitrary spot on the floor. “That doesn’t really matter now, does it.”

It was a statement more than a question. Daniel couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.

“He’d been talking about what it would be like to be on stage for months before we ever started filming. _Months_. I never got it in myself to be _that_ excited about anything on this show. And he never even got past the first cut,” Jihoon spat. “I don’t know that I would do this again, if it were going to turn out the same way. If I could’ve split half my votes with him when he was still around, I would have.” 

Jihoon ran a hand through his hair, forehead glistening with sweat. “I should’ve promoted him harder when he was here. It wasn’t like they never gave me a chance to talk. Hell, _he_ was the one who wanted this in the first place, not me. And now he doesn’t even want to be an idol anymore. He just… left.”

Daniel was silent.  


“I think the worst part is he didn’t tell me any of this himself. He didn’t contact me after he left the dorm, even though we were the closest in our company. We trained together, did homework together, got drunk for the first time together…” Jihoon still had his face to the ceiling, eyes vacant and glassy, stray bang grazing the edges of where his tears were threatening to start.

“Just decided he’d up and leave everything behind like that, like he didn’t give a shit about the two years he spent sweating harder and sleeping less than anyone else I knew. Like we weren’t supposed to debut together.” Jihoon swallowed, and Daniel could tell he had difficulty vocalizing his next sentence. “Like _I_ didn’t fucking matter.” 

Daniel finally found his own voice, though it was as shaky as Jihoon’s. “And you found this all out just now? You seemed to be doing okay this week.”

Jihoon was still for several moments, unblinking, pupils plastered overhead. Then he exhaled, rubbing the spot between his eyebrows with his fingers. “I got a text this week from Jongyeon-hyung with a bunch of links to articles, but I didn’t actually get around to reading them until a few hours before the performance.”

_Oh. Well, that would explain why we couldn’t find him for a while right before mic check._

“Sorry for disappearing on you guys. I was afraid I would faint on stage, or something. Honestly, I couldn’t tell the floor from the ceiling for a bit.” Jihoon kept his gaze upward steady, voice wistful. “Like now.”

Daniel smiled weakly, heart swelling. Jihoon had been hurting throughout the night, but kept himself steely and never showed an ounce of pain in front of the camera. Daniel was both impressed and empathetic. “It’s alright, you were great. I don’t think anyone could tell you were out of it by the time you showed up.”

Jihoon sighed. “I’m glad. At least I had one good thing come out of this week.”

For a minute, all Daniel could hear was the cadence of Jihoon’s breathing next to him, the silent rise and fall of his chest. Daniel wanted to reach out, squeeze Jihoon’s hand, do _something_. He’d never been all that good at comforting people; he’d always left that to Jisung. But even now, something stopped him. Perhaps it was that they’d never really had more than a passing conversation until now, and Daniel wasn’t sure if anything more than friendly reassurance would be overstepping a line. 

He was still surprised at how candid Jihoon had been with him. Jihoon had spoken more to him in the last fifteen minutes than he’d had in their entire time knowing each other. The fog had dissipated, and all Daniel had to do was step through the clearing.

“It’ll be fine," Daniel began slowly. "You’ll be fine. Not now, and it might take a while. It might take years.” Daniel tilted his head back, training his gaze skyward. He spoke deliberately, choosing each word carefully. “You won’t forget him, but someday, you’ll be able to think of him with smile, instead of wanting to rip your own heart open.” 

Jihoon chuckled. Daniel turned to look at him, a twinkle forming in the corner of the younger’s eye. “Hey, look at you, actually being leader.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. He’d been hyper-aware of his own shortcomings over the last two weeks, with Seongwoo having stepped in and helped him dictate more often than not. “I’m trying, alright?”

“No, I’m sorry.” Jihoon turned to Daniel and smiled softly, warmly. “I appreciate it. Really.” 

Jihoon took another long look at the chandelier above, then turned down to the watch on his wrist. _3:36 am_. Jihoon stood up slowly, stretching his arms, then began heading towards the stairs. Daniel trailed behind him, legs barely following what he wanted them to do.

“This is kind of weird,” Daniel started, feeling rather self-conscious, “but I wanted to say I’m glad you wear your watch all the time. It’s pretty much the only thing that lets me know what time it is in the middle of the night in the dorm.”

Halfway up the flight, Jihoon stopped and swung back to look at him, expression looking wildly amused. “Really? My _watch_?” Jihoon frowned at his wrist. “I thought everyone thought this thing was ugly.”

_I mean, it kind of is._ But Daniel kept that thought to himself, merely shrugging as he turned the landing. “I’ve been leaving my phone in my closet, and your watch is bright enough that I can see the time from my bed.”

“Uy.” Jihoon shook his head as he reached the top of the stairs. “Of course when I get complimented for wearing something, it’s because it’s functional, not pretty.”

Daniel’s laughter caused the door to the occupied practice room to fly open. Seonho’s long neck popped out, glasses askew on his slim face, the hollows of his eyes beginning to match the black of his hair.

“Ah, Niel-hyung, Jihoon-hyung. I thought I heard people downstairs.”

“You’ve been practicing hard, Seonho?” Daniel raised his arm in greeting.

“Niel-hyung! Your arm—”

_Oh, right._ No one had seen Daniel’s splint except Jisung, Seongwoo, Jihoon, and the staff who had escorted him from the clinic. He would have to prepare himself for the barrage of questions in the morning. “It’s alright, I just bruised my thumb. I’ll be okay in a few weeks.” Daniel waved his arm again, Seonho still looking concerned, but less so, for now.

“Seonho-yah,” Jihoon started. “Your eyebags are getting worse.”

Seonho looked sheepish as he scratched the back of his head. “I feel like I was still lacking today, so even if I don’t ever do this stage again, at least I really gave it my all even afterwards.” Seonho adjusted his glasses, peering at the two hyungs in front of him. “What about you guys? Jihoon-hyung, your eyebags are getting worse, too.”

“Ah, this? It’s nothing.” Daniel had never noticed it until now, but Jihoon’s voice could sound stunningly saccharine for how deep it was. Like poison swathed in molasses. “Niel-hyung and I were just talking, is all.”

Daniel was unable to stop the question from leaving Seonho’s mouth before it happened. “About what?”

Jihoon’s jaw hung slack just a beat too long, and Daniel took over. “The evaluations! We were just talking about how well everyone else did, so it was surprising that you’re still practicing when ‘Spring Day’ team did so well.”

Seonho shook his head. “Ah, but I didn’t.”

“No, Seonho’s piano-playing was heart-fluttering, really!”

Daniel swung around to look at Jihoon, whose face had returned to its normal color, his smile at Seonho radiant.

Seonho shook his head again, cheeks flushed, glasses crooked on his face once more. “I’m glad Jihoon-hyung thinks so.” 

“Go to sleep soon, okay, Seonho?” Jihoon grabbed at Daniel’s elbow, and Daniel obliged, letting himself be pulled back. Both of them waved at Seonho, who was lazily shaking his hand back and forth. “Good night!”

It was quiet as they padded down the hallway, only the soft _pit-a-pat_ of their footsteps to break the silence. They walked unhurried, arm in arm, Daniel noting Jihoon’s somber demeanor as they reached the door to their room.

“Hyung.”

Daniel paused, one hand on the doorknob, other arm still in Jihoon’s. “Hmm?”

“Thank you.” Jihoon’s voice was low, wavering slightly. “For answering for me earlier. And for listening.” 

“Ah… you’re welcome.” Daniel felt the warmth of Jihoon’s gratitude spread throughout his body. He, too, was thankful that Jihoon had shared so much with him. He knew Jihoon would likely never repeat anything he’d divulged to him to another soul, at least not in the foreseeable future. “What are you gonna do now?”

Jihoon let go of Daniel’s arm, eyes fixated on an indeterminate spot between himself and the door. “Like you said, convince myself that I’ll be fine. If he’s really leaving the industry, I’ll probably never see him again.” 

Jihoon stepped forward, turning the knob Daniel still had his hand on. Jihoon’s hand on top of his felt like ice. “But right now, it definitely still feels like my heart’s being sliced open.” 

The pain in Jihoon’s voice rang through Daniel as he climbed solemnly back into bed, lulling himself to dream to the snores of Woojin, the shuffling of Samuel’s limbs, the lilting breathing of Seongwoo. He knew Jihoon wouldn’t sleep tonight. 

Daniel searched one last time for those neon numbers he’d come to rely on. _3:51 am_.

“Good night, Jihoon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just in case it wasn’t clear: left side of the room has Seongwoo on the top bunk, Hyungseob on the bottom, and Daniel above the closet. Right side: Samuel top, Jihoon bottom, Woojin closet. (Definitely didn’t scrutinize that hidden camera to make sure I got that correct. Nah.)
> 
>  ~~This is, hopefully, the first in a chronological series of oneshots exploring slowburn NielWink. I’m in too deep. (′︿‵｡) And also incapable of writing chaptered multific, lol. In any case, I’d like each work to be able to stand on its own, but to also be interconnected and read like one, full story. Hopefully.~~ **EDIT 170724:** I've been storyboarding and this is definitely going to turn into multichap. Whoops. Gonna take me a while to get the next part out, but I'm determined to see this through. _cries in the background_
> 
> Title taken from Marjan Mozetich's [concerto of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wWc62xO2O2c).
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful friend Alice for the beta! And thank you for reading! (●´∀`)♡


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